Lancaster’s continous rain came down,
dampened the edges of a rather fine cigar.
The centre, however, continued to burn;
we walked through the rain
as the flavours
grew stronger than their subtle beginnings
and, in the end,
almost numbed our mouths with their intensity.
We spoke of bondage, sex, moutains and forests
– for these things interested us,
briefly.
As the rain came down,
the cigar continued to burn.
In the end though,
it all comes down to the eyes,
watching the cigar burn,
the intensity of flavours.